


At Last I See The Light

by localswordlesbian



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tangled (2010) Fusion, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Archivist Sasha James, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Female Character of Color, Bisexual Male Character, Canon LGBTQ Character, Crossover, Disney AU, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, LGBTQ Themes, Romantic Fluff, Tangled AU, look i love timsasha okay, sorry jonny you can't take this from me, this is just serotonin for me at this point, timsasha are perfectly happy cannon what
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:20:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28376094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/localswordlesbian/pseuds/localswordlesbian
Summary: Sasha James never thought she'd see the outside world. She always thought she would simply dream of the Festival of Lights while remaining in the towering panopticon, organizing Elias Bouchard's archive. All that changed when a handsome thief who went by the name of Tim Stoker tumbled in through the window, giving Sasha something she never dared to dream for: a chance at freedom.But Sasha is more powerful than she ever imagined, than she ever thought possible. And that power will consume her if she's not careful, if she can't learn to control it.
Relationships: Sasha James/Tim Stoker
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29





	1. When Will My Life Begin?

“HA!”

The blinds slammed open with a resounding _BANG!_ as Sasha shoved them open, her head and shoulders bursting forward into the open air. A rush of wind hit her with a blast of needles to the face as it brought the fresh smell of grass and pollen to her nose.

Spotting a familiar orange tail off to the side of the window, Sasha paused, a smile spreading over her face. Standing back on her heels with her hands clasped behind her back, she called out in a sing-song voice, “Oh dear! Guess he can’t _possibly_ be out _here_ , how silly of me!” Sweeping her dress behind her in a dramatic flourish, she smirked as she heard a satisfied m _rrow_ coming from behind the ivy branches next to the window. Letting out a contented whistle as she turned around, Sasha made quick work of tying a strand of her curly hair around one of the window hooks before grabbing the wall and swinging herself with ease outside and grabbing hold of the scruff of the cat’s neck. The Admiral let out a howl of protest as Sasha hoisted him up, her momentum carrying her halfway out the window – she dangled by one hand gripping the ledge and her knees hooked behind the windowsill. Sasha strained, grinning at the distraught orange cat hanging from her hand as she deposited him inside before hoisting herself inside with a grunt.

“You know,” she mused, dusting off her dress. “For a feline who can go pretty much anywhere, you’re pretty bad at this game.” The Admiral let out a meow of protest, hopping gracefully back onto the windowsill and turning his back on her petulantly. Sasha laughed. “Come now, no need to take it so personally.”

The Admiral was still standing on the windowsill, so Sasha carefully made her way over, detaching her hair from the hook as she did. “What’s wrong, Admiral?” The cat turned as if to look at her, then turned its fluffy orange head back towards the outside. Sasha, understanding, huffed a laugh. “Don’t tempt me. You know I can’t go out there.” The Admiral turned, sitting and planting his tail around his paws as if waiting for an explanation. “You know why,” Sasha chided. “It’s not safe. People have been hunting for me for years, they’re not going to have stopped, you know. Besides,” she reasoned, reaching out to scratch The Admiral behind his ears. His purr graced her ears. “I like it in here, and so do you.”

She didn’t know if it was the cat who needed the convincing, or her.

Sasha’s days in the towering panopticon were much the same – clean, prepare food for herself, and organize the building’s massive archive. It was a tedious process, what with the files and books left scattered around in no particular order. Some of them were so old Sasha had to wonder how the paper they’d been scrawled on hadn't crumbled to bits in her hands. She could distinguish different styles of handwriting on some of the documents, none of it matching Elias’, and she wondered who had written them.

Sasha briefly wondered whether he’d stop by today. Elias Bouchard was, to her understanding, the owner of the building and the archive, as well as the man who was sheltering her there. He was an oddly charismatic man, though something about him always set Sasha’s nerves on edge, and despite her loneliness in this tower she always found herself thankful that Elias never stayed long.

Sometimes, if she got her work done early, Sasha had time to think. Those were the worst days, because she always found herself thinking about the outside world. She knew, of course, that she couldn’t leave the tower: it wasn’t safe outside for someone as powerful as the Archivist, and she would certainly get hurt. What could she do, a lone girl up against the world?

Then there was, of course, the hair.

No one had ever explained her hair to her, and she wasn’t sure if anyone _could_. Dark brown, curly, and so long it trailed meters upon meters behind her on the floor whenever she moved. She swore that every time she recorded a statement her locks grew an extra few inches. There was nothing Sasha wanted more than to simply slash at it with a knife until it lay in a massive heap at her feet, but her lack of access to a knife and the repeated warnings from Elias against doing just that stopped her.

Sighing, Sasha made her way over to the massive painting hanging opposite the window in the main room. She knew she should be organizing the archive, but instead her mind was occupied with thoughts of the event that was to happen tomorrow. The nearby kingdom’s annual light show, where lanterns were tossed into the sky by the hundreds and the sky seemed to twinkle with countless extra stars – Sasha had always dreamed of going.

The man in the painting above her seemed to scrutinize her, disapproving of her even daring to dream of seeing the lights. His scars were painted in shocking detail, and Sasha once again wondered who he was – Elias always claimed he had no clue, that the painting had belonged to his predecessor.

Shaking her head, Sasha made her way into the adjacent archive. She had work to do, and there was no use dwelling on a past she couldn't control and a future she’d never have.

“I can’t help but feel like this is a terrible idea.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Melanie, would it kill you to be a _little_ more optimistic? Maybe trust me just a little bit?”

The petite woman behind Tim rolled her eyes. She squinted her dark eyes against the glare of the sun as she positioned her feet for balance on the slanted roof.

“Come on, you two,” the heavyset woman next to Melanie chided. “This will be a lot easier if you guys just cooperate.”

“Tell that to your girlfriend, Georgie,” Tim retorted. “She’s the one who’s picking fights.”

“Now you just sound like a petulant child.”

Tim stuck his tongue out at Melanie.

Georgie sighed and grabbed the rope from her belt, moving over to loop it around Tim’s waist. “I swear you two are going to be the end of me.”

Despite the bickering, Tim heard the fondness in Georgie’s voice, and he grinned. “Come now, Georgie. You know you love me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t test that theory.” She gave the ropes an experimental yank, nodding in satisfaction when they didn't come undone. “Come on, now. We’ve got a job to do.”

For all his joking, Tim knew this job was an important one. Testing the rope one more time, he positioned himself above the panel Melanie had removed from the roof of the castle. Staring down, he allowed himself a small smirk. _I could get used to a view like this_. He slowly lowered himself down, feeling the rope pull taut as both Georgie and Melanie gripped it above him. Down he went, towards his prize.

The crown wasn’t really Tim’s goal – oh it would fetch a pretty penny to be sure, something a group of three rowdy thieves were going to need. But the symbolism of it all made adrenaline pump through his veins. Something that would keep three people alive for a good long while if pawned off to the right person was just sitting here, completely useless, guarded by two guards who weren't even watching it. Their eyes were trained on the door, not realizing that the thieves of this kingdom weren’t that stupid.

_Idiots_ , Tim scoffed.

Grabbing the crown, he silently placed it in the satchel around his neck before giving the rope a slight tug. He watched the now empty pedestal shrink as he rose higher and higher, as one of the guards turned around to look.

It took Tim a moment to recognize what was happening. By the time the guard had let out his surprised yell, Tim was already lifting himself onto the roof. His heart began to roar in his ears as he was reunited with his companions.

“What did you do?” Melanie demanded.

Tim was already sprinting as fast as he could across the roof, finding the pipe which would take them down to the streets and alleyways of the sprawling kingdom below. “Nothing! Not that it matters unless we run!”

Despite the danger they were in, there was a part of Tim that secretly loved this part of being a thief – the thrill of the chase. It was strange, for most would prefer to be the chaser, but Tim was confident in his ability to escape. The authorities were the wily coyotes to his road runner, and he knew they’d never catch him but he had fun watching them try.

Tim, Melanie, and Georgie slunk through the alleyways, making sure to keep to the shadows and not making their movements too obvious. Once they’d made their way to the outskirts of the kingdom, the trio headed into the woods.

“You should let me do the retrieving next time,” Melanie was saying as they picked their way through shrubbery and leaves, the sunlight creating a bright dappled effect on the grass below their feet.

“Look, it was just bad timing,” Tim insisted. “But if you care that much, fine.” His heart was still pounding from the close call back at the castle, so he didn’t care if he ceded the next mission to Melanie. Then maybe she’d finally get off his ass about it, and if it went wrong she wouldn’t have him to scapegoat for it.

“Guys, stop.” They obeyed Georgie’s command, freezing as she seemed to strain her ears to listen. The moment her eyes widened, they all knew what was happening. “Run.”

Melanie didn’t hesitate to follow her girlfriend’s directions as the sound of hooves suddenly filled the grassy clearing. _How can horses sneak up on people that easily?_ Tim wondered as he followed suite, easily surpassing the women with his longer legs. Turning back, he saw them branch off back towards the kingdom. “Go!” Georgie shouted at him. “You know where to meet us!”

Tim didn’t question it – he just ran, the satchel secured over his shoulder. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he sprinted across leaves and grass, no idea where he was going, just going and going and going. The forest passed him by in a rush, and Tim had to suppress a whoop of laughter as he felt like he was flying through the trees.

Finally, the trees ended, but the sound of hooves behind him hadn’t. Skidding to a stop, Tim surveyed the sight before him. In the middle of a clearing Tim had never seen before stood a vast tower, reaching into the sky as though to brush against the clouds. Before he could think better of it, he broke into another sprint, making his way towards the tower. As he approached, a dark sense of foreboding sank into his gut, but he pushed it aside. He could think about it when he _wasn’t_ being chased.

All along the base, he didn't see any entrance. Pausing, willing his heart to stop pounding so he could hear, he strained to distinguish the sound of hooves from behind him – he heard nothing, but he also knew perfectly well that that didn’t mean he was safe.

Good thing he’d always been a good climber.

Tim’s hands were sore and scraped raw by the time he reached the open window by the top of the tower. With one final heave, his muscles straining and at a risk of completely giving out, he launched himself headfirst inside, toppling into a somersault.

He stared at the ceiling for a moment, catching his breath as the fire in his lungs subsided and the embers in his veins slowly cooled to near normal levels. Finally, away from the risk of horses and guards, he let himself laugh – he’d done it again! He’d managed to steal the royal crown, a priceless piece that would no longer sit on the head of any lounging aristocrat but would instead be of some use once it was taken apart piece by piece.

Sitting up, he massaged his sore muscles as he took in his surroundings. The room he’d fallen into was large, circular, with paintings adorning every single available surface from floor to ceiling. One in particular caught his eye – a framed portrait of a hollow-faced man covered in circular scars, silver streaks adorning his long, wavy brown hair. A slender scar at his throat marred his dark skin, as though he’d been held at knifepoint, and something about his eyes seemed… wrong. Tim also could have sworn that he'd seen that man somewhere before, but those eyes didn’t look familiar at all.

Those eyes were the last thing he saw before he felt something hard collide with the back of his head, and a feminine shriek was all he heard as the world went dark.


	2. You've Got A Friend In Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim meets the mysterious inhabitant of the tower. Elias gives Sasha a warning. Sasha gets a glimmer of hope.

Sasha clapped a hand to her mouth as the man collapsed at her feet, the resounding _clang_ of the frying pan connecting with his head echoing through the stone walls of the tower room along with her scream and the dull _thud_ of him hitting the ground.

Her heart raced and she struggled to breathe for a moment, her mind a swirling mess of racing thoughts and panicked images as she fought to get it under control. She counted her breaths, her chest tightening, her eyes squeezed shut, until she could take a deep, albeit shuddering, breath without feeling as though she was about to faint.

Slowly, hesitantly, she opened one eye, then the other. The man was still lying at her feet, seemingly out cold. Leaning down, she turned him over and checked his throat for a pulse. Sighing in relief as she felt a flutter of a heartbeat at his throat, she finally paused and let herself behold the man that lay before her.

Sasha felt a blush creep to her cheeks as she confronted the fact that this man was _beautiful_. His dark hair curled just the slightest bit, brushing over his forehead; his skin was tanned and his hands were calloused – he had the build of someone who had seen some amount of physical labour. His face was peaceful with his eyes closed, and a deep brown when they were open.

Wait a second.

Sasha let out a gasp and launched herself backwards, landing on her behind with a grunt as the man blinked up at her. Lifting himself up onto his elbows, he squinted at her.

“Well. Hello.”

Sasha simply blinked at him for a moment before responding. “Hello?”

He gave her a small grin, and Sasha’s heart skipped a little. “And who might you be?”

Composing herself, Sasha stood and crossed her arms over her chest. “I feel like I should be asking you that, considering you broke into my home and all.”

The man at least had the decency to offer her a sheepish grin. “Yeah, sorry about that. Not a lot of options considering I was being chased and all.”

“Chased by who?”

“Royal guards.” The man grinned at her again. “Why, you’re not going to turn me in, are you?”

“Uh. No. You still didn't answer my question.”

“Ah, of course. Timothy Stoker, at your service.” The man – Timothy – tried to stand, but winced and rubbed the back of his head. Regaining his balance, he held out a hand. “And may I know your name?”

Despite the bizarre nature of the situation, Sasha couldn’t help letting out a little laugh at the formality in his voice. “Sasha James. A pleasure, to make your acquaintance, Timothy.”

“Oh, call me Tim. Everyone does.”

“Including the authorities chasing you?”

Tim let out a sharp laugh. “Touché.” Placing his hands on his hips, he looked around the tower. “You mentioned this is your home?” He asked, taking a step before freezing. “What–“

Sasha looked down and realized what had stopped him in his tracks. “Oh yeah, watch out for that. It gets pretty tangled.”

Tim was still staring. “Is that your _hair_?”

Sasha bristled at his tone. “Is there a problem with that?” She’d never had anyone react toher hair before, though now that she thought about it perhaps it would be weird to see for the first time. “Sorry, that was rude.”

Tim shook his head. “No, I shouldn’t have– just– how do you _maintain_ all that?”

“Uh, well–“

Sasha was cut off by the sound of a voice calling from below. “Sasha!”

She froze, a spike of anxiety piercing her heart. “Quick,” she urged Tim, who stared at her in confusion. “Get into the closet. Now!”

He blinked at her. “Is that a pun, or–“ He was cut off by her shoving his back, causing him to topple towards the wardrobe. “Jeez, mind the injury!” he hissed, but he obeyed, stepping inside the already cramped wardrobe as Sasha shoved the doors closed and made her way to the window.

As expected, there Elias stood, waiting patiently. Heaving a sigh, knowing the pain that was about to come, Sasha latched her hair to the hook hanging above the window and threw the rest down to the ground. Bracing herself, she felt the tug and the telltale pain which told her Elias was climbing up the wall. Sasha missed the days before it had grown this long, when Elias seemed to simply appear in the room through a cloud of smoke. He still did, sometimes, with the help of his husband; though they were currently going through yet another divorce, so it was head pain for Sasha until they got remarried again.

Elias stepped into the room with a small grin plastered to his face. “Thank you, Sasha. I cannot imagine that that is an easy ordeal, and I apologize for making you go through it.”

She swallowed her bitter retort and simply schooled her features into neutrality. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

Elias tilted his head, that creepy smile ever present. “What, can I not see my own archive? Not to mention my ward?”

Sasha shook her head. “Not at all, you’ve just been around less is all. I thought you’d be busy with.– with Peter, and all.”

Elias laughed. “I don’t need to worry about Peter for a long while yet. He’s taken a little vacation, as it were. You know how he gets.”

She did. “I see. Well, I’m on track with organizing the archive.” Elias didn’t seem to be paying her much mind, pausing to peek through the shelves of documents and books, scrutinizing the place. _This is it. This is your chance to ask_. “I want to go outside,” she blurted.

This brought the slight man to a halt. He turned slowly, his eyes narrowed. “Come again?”

Sasha swallowed – there was no backing down now. “You heard me. I want to go outside. I want to see the outside world.” She didn’t mention the Lights, though she wasn’t sure why.

Elias shook his head slowly, that knowing smile spreading over his face again. “Sasha, come now. You know why you can’t go outside. You won’t survive out there.”

Sasha straightened her back, steeling her resolve. “Because of my power. But shouldn’t having powers make me stronger? I can handle whatever’s out there, if I could just have a chance.”

“You won’t. You’ll be hunted, for there are those out there who want your power, and then there are those who live for the thrill of the chase. People won’t think twice about killing a freak like you.”

Her heart sank. “One day. I only ask for one day. I’ll prove it to you.”

But Elias was already shaking his head. “You don’t need to prove anything to me. I already know you can’t handle it.” He walked over to her, and despite his small stature he seemed to tower over her. “And if you even so much as try to disobey me, I will know, and I will not be kind with my punishment. Do you understand?”

Swallowing the bile building in her throat, Sasha nodded. _There goes that dream,_ she thought as Elias straightened, smiling once again.

“Perfect. Well, seeing as you seem to be doing just fine, I’ll be off. Do try to behave while I’m gone, dear Sasha. I wouldn’t want any harm to come to my precious Archivist.”

Sasha watched him walk out of the clearing and into the woods with a heavy heart. She’d been hoping he’d at least consider it – she knew he was her guardian, but she was an adult! No matter, because she knew he was right. She didn’t know how, but she knew he’d know if she tried to sneak out.

So it was another countless days, weeks, months, years in this tower. Organizing that never ending archive.

She knew she should be grateful. Had it not been for Elias, she’d be dead, hunted for sport until she was exhausted, beaten down to a pulp and tormented for her power. Whatever that power was.

Staring out the window, she had a jolt of realization that, in her preoccupation with Elias’ refusal, she’d completely forgotten about Tim. “Sorry!” she called as she ran over to the wardrobe, prying the doors open to reveal a disgruntled Tim curled up on the floor, his eyes drooping. “Hey, are you alright?”

He blinked up at her, bleariness behind his eyes. “As okay as I can be after being forgotten in a closet,” he commented wryly, though his lips curled up into a smile. “Also does one person _really_ need this many turtlenecks?”

Sasha breathed a laugh, grabbing his bicep and pulling him up to a standing position. “Is your head alright?”

He winced, rubbing the back of his head and ruffling his hair, mussing it even more than it already had been. Sasha kept her eyes trained on his, and it was definitely because it was the polite thing to do during conversation, according to Elias at least. It definitely _wasn’t_ because his wavy hair flying around his face looked so damned _cute_. It definitely wasn’t that.

“Sorry. I really didn’t mean to hit you that hard. I just got spooked.”

Tim shook his head slowly. “I know, don’t worry. I’ll be fine – gonna take more than that to do me in.” He winked before wincing again. “Though I may be concussed.”

Sasha kept her hand on his arm, guiding him towards the plush armchair which sat in front of her sprawling bookcase. He sat, muttering his thanks under his breath. “So,” she began. “You were being chased by royal guards?”

Tim grinned, leaning back in the armchair and crossing his foot over his knee – he had a casually flirtatious nature about him, and his dastardly grin was infectious so that Sasha felt her lips tug up into a smile. “Ah, yeah. Just another day in the life of Timothy Stoker, the–“ He broke off suddenly, sitting up and whipping his head around. Before she could warn him to stop, that his injury wasn’t healed and all that movement definitely wasn't going to help, he stared directly at her. “Where’s my satchel?” he demanded.

She blinked at him. “Your what?”

He stood shakily. “My satchel. I had it when I came in here– where did you hide it?”

Sasha pressed her hands to his shoulders, forcing him back into the chair. “Hold up, I didn’t hide anything. It's gotta be around here somewhere. What’s in there, anyway, if it’s so important?”

Tim’s face reddened, and Sasha stepped back. “It– It’s important, okay?”

At that, Sasha felt something brush against her leg. Looking down, she saw the Admiral standing by her feet, a brown bag held between his teeth. “Is this it?”

Tim blinked. “Yeah, it is. Here, kitty.”

But the Admiral didn’t move, simply stood by Sasha, almost offering her the satchel. Leaning down, she took it and opened it, peering inside.

What she beheld was the most bejewelled crown she'd ever seen. Golden wires tied together radiant patterns of diamonds and other precious gemstones, creating a beautiful tiara of twirling gold. In the centre of the crown was a long green gemstone that made the whole pattern take on the appearance of an ethereal eye.

Tim seemed to watch her closely as she walked over to her mirror and gently placed the tiara on top of her wild curls. She blinked, her own dark green eyes seemingly made brighter by the dazzling piece atop her head. The diamonds were offset by her dark skin, and the entire crown glittered in the sunlight.

She looked like a princess.

Turning, she saw Tim staring at her, his mouth open ever so slightly. When he noticed her noticing, his expression fell back into that easy grin. “Well then, your highness. As beautiful as you look right now, I’m going to be needing that back.” He held out his hand.

Pausing, an idea blooming, Sasha stood up straighter. “No.”

He blinked, taken aback. “No?”

“Not unless you do something for me.”

Tim scoffed. “No offence, gorgeous, but I don’t exactly owe you anything. If anything, you smashed my head in so I’d think it’s the other way around.”

Feeling heat rise to her face at the compliment, Sasha steeled her resolve. “It’s just a simple favour, don’t worry. I want you to take me to the Festival of Lights tomorrow. Take me there, and bring me home safely, and you’ll get this back.” She gently brushed her fingers against the tiara.

Tim was staring at her. “Did you not miss the part about me being chased by royal guards?” he demanded. “I’m not exactly the most liked person in the kingdom right now, Sasha.”

Sasha sighed. “I–“

Tim held out a hand, and Sasha cut off. “Hold on.” He pointed to something over Sasha’s shoulder. “Who’s that?”

Sasha turned, realizing Tim was pointing to the painting of the scarred man. “Oh. I don’t actually know, El– my guardian says it belonged to his predecessor.”

Tim turned to her. “Your guardian who wont let you leave?” He gave her a tight smile as her eyes widened. “You think I didn’t hear what was happening? That wardrobe isn’t sound-proof, you know.”

Sasha sighed. No use lying. “It’s for my own good.”

Narrowing his eyes, and ignoring Sasha’s protests, Tim stood and made his way over to the painting. Making direct eye contact with the painted man, he pulled a knife from his boot and made quick work slashing up the man’s eyes. Sasha simply stared at him, dumbfounded, as he replaced the knife and moved to stand in front of her. He was close enough she could feel his breath.

“Why did you do that?”

“I didn't like his eyes. They creeped me out. Also I swear I’ve seen that man before. Now give me my crown.”

“Take me to see the Lights.”

“Not unless you want me to get arrested.”

“Then no.”

It crossed Sasha’s mind that Tim could easily reach up and simply pluck the crown off her head – he was a couple inches taller than her and easily twice as strong. But he didn’t. He simply met her gaze, conflict dancing behind his eyes, before sighing, his lips once again curling up into a flirtatious grin.

“I suppose seeing them up close wouldn't be so bad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone! It doesn't feel like 2020 really ended but at least there's always TimSasha :)  
> I hope everyone had a safe new year, and I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter.


	3. Into the Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasha finally sees the outside world for herself. Tim meets up with old friends. A truth is revealed.

Without the eyes staring creepily at him, Tim finally put two and two together as to who the man in the painting was, and he felt like a fool for not seeing it sooner. Maybe it was the shock of the realization that had led him to agree to something as stupid as escorting someone he’d just met into a kingdom where he was a wanted criminal.

He was strongly beginning to regret his decisions as he stood at the base of the tower, waiting for Sasha to descend. The conversation he’d overheard played over and over again in his head, and he’d had to stop himself several times from asking most likely rude questions.

Had she really never left that tower? Never once gone outside? Spoken to anyone besides that man?

Oddly enough, Sasha seemed almost _normal_. For someone who’d lived her whole life trapped up in a tower, what had he even expected? Someone with less social skills, perhaps? Someone who looked more gaunt, and pale, and withered? But no, Sasha looked like a normal girl.

His thoughts were cut off as her shadow peeked out from the window. He watched her hesitate, slowly tying her hair to the hook above the window. _How is she planning on getting that unhooked?_ Tim wondered. She stood, staring ahead, gripping her hair tight as she dangled one foot off the edge before pulling it back sharply.

“Hey!” he called up. Sasha looked down, worry clearly etched onto her face. “It’s going to be okay, just trust me, yeah?”

He watched her take a deep breath, steel herself, then take the leap. Literally.

Tim could feel his heart plummet into his stomach as she tumbled towards the earth, grabbing at her hair and managing to hold on tightly just out of Tim’s reach. There she dangled, staring at Tim with wide eyes, as he extended his arms towards her.

“Trust me,” he urged.

And she did.

Loosening her grip on her hair, Sasha tumbled barely two feet before she felt strong arms wrap around her, holding her steady. Squeezing her eyes shut, she lowered her feet to the ground – _she was standing on the ground_ – and stood. She inhaled, the sweet scent of the world around her enveloping her senses and causing a thrill to course through her veins.

She opened her eyes to see Tim watching her, his arms still around her waist. She gave him a wide grin, unable to stop the giggle that escaped her. “I’m outside,” she whispered, fearing that if she spoke any louder she’d wake up back in the tower, all of this simply a mad dream. But she was still here, outside, and Tim was still before her.

He returned her smile. “You’re outside.” He held her gaze for a moment longer before his eyes drifted up to the tower. “Uh, did you consider how you’re going to get that untangled?”

Sasha looked up, back to where her hair was still securely attached to the hook by the window. “Oh, don’t worry. It’s taken care of.” Right on cue, the Admiral’s fat orange form appeared and made quick work with his paws of removing Sasha’s hair – it collapsed to the ground in a massive heap.

Tim blinked. “Are you sure that cat isn’t a person trapped in the body of a cat?”

Sasha laughed. “Honestly, not entirely.”

The Admiral surveyed the ground before making quick work of clambering down the ivy before strolling over to Sasha’s feet. She reached down, scratching behind his ears as he purred like an earthquake in a blender.

She turned, stepping past Tim to survey the clearing. It was all so much _bigger_ from the ground than it had appeared from her window – the trees towered over her head, and she could no longer see the tops of them. The grass squished beneath her feet in a way that felt bizarre. She’d never put much thought into how grass would feel under her boots, but now that she was here she couldn’t get it out of her head. She laughed as she took off running, barely hearing Tim’s shout behind her. She ran and she ran as fast as her feet would take her, the blazing heat of the sun disappearing under the dappled shadows as she breeze brushed her skin like soft feathers, the birds singing trilled through her ears as she felt the uneven terrain hit the soles of her feet through her shoes.

She felt like she was flying.

Until something snagged her ankle, and she let out an undignified shriek as she tumbled to the ground. Groaning in pain and embarrassment, she turned to see Tim walking toward her, a grimace on his face. Leaning down, he scooped up the long train of hair she’d left behind her, his arms quickly overwhelmed and his face obscured. As he approached, she noticed that the trail led around a tree that had extended between several bushes and low hanging branches before eventually catching her ankle.

As he neared, she heard him making spitting noises as he deposited the massive pile of hair beside her, removing a strand from his mouth. “How do you _deal_ with all of that?” he demanded indignantly.

Sasha laughed a little, and he gave her a petulant glare. “Sorry, sorry. I guess I just got used to it.”

He surveyed her before holding out a hand. "Not used to it enough,” he teased.

She returned his smile, lightly shoving his shoulder. “Rude.”

Tim looked down at the massive pile of hair. “Seriously though. Why don’t you just cut it, if it’s that much of a nuisance?”

Sasha sighed. “I–I can’t. Or I don't think I can, anyway. Elias warned me against it.”

“Elias, I’m assuming, is the man you were talking to?”

“Yeah. He's my guardian, and he says I shouldn't cut it or something bad might happen.”

Tim narrowed his eyes. “How on Earth could anything bad come from cutting your hair?”

Sasha shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. It just always seemed like too great of a risk to take.”

Tim seemed to think for a moment before he started walking through the woods. “I think I have a solution. I have to meet up with some people – we got split up in the chase, and they're probably worried about me. I’m sure you guys will get along great.”

_I can meet more people_. Sasha's heart swelled with excitement at the prospect. “Lead the way, Stoker.”

The Magnus Tavern was not exactly the most inviting place, but considering its constant crowds it was perfect for anonymity. Tim stopped outside the door, the sounds of chatter and glasses clanging reverberating from behind it.

Turning to Sasha, he placed his hands on her shoulders – at the contact, she met his eyes, and they seemed to glow in the sunlight. _Fuck, she’s pretty_. He shook the thought from his head.

“Okay, so this place isn’t exactly the friendliest, but just keep your head down and you’ll be fine, yeah? Nothing bad, just a little… rowdy.”

To her credit, Sasha nodded. “I’ll be fine, Tim.” She gave him a soft smile and Tim felt his heart skip a beat.

He grinned at her. “Perfect. Well, Sasha James, welcome to my world.”

Opening the door, he and Sasha stepped into the pit of chaos he’d come to know and love. The place was rustic, near everything made of dark wood from the walls to the tankards that held the beer. Booths were filled with people laughing and shouting, orders were being yelled across the room, and a roaring fire in the corner gave the place an almost cottage-like feel. If they’d just stepped into the rowdiest cottage on this end of the continent.

It didn’t take long for Tim to spot Georgie – she was in the usual corner booth, talking to a familiar man.

Tim turned and took Sasha’s hand in his – she’d been staring in wonder at the place and turned in surprise at the contact. “Stick with me.” At her nod, he made her way over to Georgie’s booth, stopping in front of her. “Seriously, I’d think you two were still engaged with how close you are,” he teased.

Her head snapping up at his voice, Georgie’s face split into a grin and she stood and wrapped him in a hug. He let go of Sasha’s hand to hug her back, squeezing her tight.

“Perhaps you wouldn’t be so surprised if you’d ever had a functional relationship in your life, Timothy.” the man retorted.

Tim snorted. “For the last time, Jon, how many times do I need to tell you to call me Tim?”

Jon simply glared at him, and Tim winked. Georgie gave him a playful slap on the arm. “Tim, be nice. You too, Jon.” Jon scowled at her.

“Where’s Melanie?” he asked.

Georgie nodded over to the bar, where Melanie was indeed standing, talking to another familiar man, this one large with curly ginger hair and freckles smattered all over his face. Tim felt himself smile. “Go let her know you’re alive. Though before you do that, aren’t you going to introduce your friend?”

Tim turned to see Sasha standing awkwardly behind him, trying to subtly bring her hair in one pile at her feet. She looked up at Georgie, saying nothing and turning to Tim.

He gestured to her. “Georgie, this is Sasha James. Sasha, this is my good friend and quite literal partner in crime, Georgie Barker.” He took a breath. “And that’s our friend, Jonathan Sims.”

“Friends is a strong term, Timothy,” Jon retorted as he turned his blind eyes toward their voices. At the sight of his face, Sasha gasped, slapping her hand over her mouth.

Placing a hand on Sasha’s shoulder, he motioned for her to sit down while Georgie looked at the two of them quizzically. “I’m going to talk to Melanie. I think you two have some talking to do.”

Seemingly in a daze, Sasha sat across from Jon. Her eyes were wide, and Tim couldn’t blame her. He met Georgie’s stare, and he could feel the question there – _what the fuck do you think you're doing_? He shook his head a little, as if to say _I’ll explain later_. And he would, and she knew he would, so she let it slide, taking a seat next to the shocked Sasha. Just when Tim thought she was in too much shock to speak, she finally asked a question.

“Who are you?” she asked.

Jon turned toward the sound of her voice. “Jonathan Sims,” he replied.

Sasha shook her head as Tim retreated. “No. Who _are_ you? And why is there a painting of you in Elias Bouchard’s archive?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 3! I switched up cannon a little and made Jon blind instead of Melanie. This is my first go at writing a blind character more in-depth, and while I've done research and tried to be as sensitive as possible if I accidentally write something offensive, please let me know and I'll rewrite it!  
> I hope you enjoy :)


	4. Escape Route

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasha has her questions answered. Tim reunites with his friends. The crew returns.

None of it made sense.

Sasha forced herself not to look at Tim as he walked away, heart thundering at being left alone with strangers, strangers who maybe understood more about her past than she did. _Tim trusts them,_ Sasha tried to tell herself, willing her hands to stop shaking. She felt rather than saw Georgie place her own over them, her knuckles and fingers now enveloped in warmth.

Sasha hadn’t taken her eyes off Jonathan Sims.

He looked different in person. The scars were less pronounced, though they were by no means unnoticeable: the circular scars adorned his face and neck and the pale line at his throat wouldn’t leave many to wonder where it had come from. But most striking were his eyes – milky white and unseeing.

He looked in her direction. “Who am I?” he mused. “Sasha James,was it?”

Sasha nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see her. “Yes.”

Jonathan tapped his fingers on the table. “I worked for Elias Bouchard. It was a long time ago; I was young and naive, and I thought that his was a place of learning. I was quick to realize that I was wrong.”

Sasha’s heart pounded. “What happened to you?” she whispered.

Jonathan winced. “I did my education at the Royal Academy – I was lucky enough to meet some people who put in a good word for me, despite the fact that I was not nobility. I ate up every text I got my hands on, that was how much I loved to learn. There was so much more out there than the small provincial life on the outskirts that I’d always known, so much world out there that the common peasant around these parts would never have the opportunity to learn.

“But I did. And I wanted to make the most of my new opportunity, to share the knowledge I’d learned with the kingdom, and a job at Elias Bouchard’s archive seemed the best way to do just that.”

He paused, his breath coming more and more rapidly. “What happened?” Sasha asked again, feeling her heart racing with adrenaline – here she was, moments away from figuring out the truth about her guardian, of what he was doing, of what _she_ was doing. She simply had to know.

Jonathan took a shuddering breath and pressed on. Sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead, and Georgie let out a quiet gasp. “I had no idea what I was leaving behind. That I would never get to see those I loved ever again – that I’d never get to _see_ again.” He squeezed his eyes shut. Those white, unseeing eyes that had seen far too much. “I was lucky to escape, lucky to find a way for me to get my freedom back. Even if it did come at a great cost.”

Sasha took a deep breath. “Why does Elias keep a painting of you in the panopticon?”

Jonathan laughed bitterly. “To mock me, perhaps. Or perhaps to watch you.”

She blinked. “Pardon?”

“Elias has eyes everywhere; quite literally. He is not a normal man, you see. I don’t entirely know how, but anywhere there’s eyes, he can see you.”

Sasha shuddered involuntarily, a chill shaking her to her very bones. _Anywhere there's eyes, he can see you_. That was how he kept an eye on her. That was how he knew where she was at all times, how he was so sure he’d know if she ever left the tower.

Now she had. And there were eyes everywhere.

Jonathan took a deep breath, collapsing onto his arms and placing his forehead on the table. Georgie stood quickly. “Jon!” she exclaimed, going over to check on him, placing a hand on his back as he breathed heavily and laboriously. Sasha simply stared. “Are you alright?”

He looked directly at her, and Sasha shrunk under the force of it. “So you can do it too.”

She simply stared at him. “Do what?”

“Compel statements out of people. Force them to tell you the truth. I used to be able to do the same thing, used to have to in order to survive, before I severed the connection with the Eye by blinding myself. Before you ask, I used acid. A couple drops in each eye did the trick.”

Another shiver ran through Sasha. “God,” she whispered. “Do I need to do that? Force people to give me statements?”

Jonathan pursed his lips. “Most likely. The Eye feeds on fear and pain.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this anymore.”

Sasha sat back, her head spinning with questions. What was the Eye? Why did it feed on fear? What did this mean for her? Could she even survive without the tower, without the archive, without Elias?

“I’m sorry,” was what she said instead. Seeing Jonathan looking more pale and withered than he had when she walked in made her heart wrench.

He gave her a wry smile. “It’s okay. I was in your shoes, once. Perhaps you will be more fortunate than I was.”

All she could do was nod.

“Good to see you alive, jackass.”

“Nice to see you too, Melanie.”

“Come now, you two, really?” The man Tim had recognized gave him and Melanie a pained look.

Tim grinned, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. “Good to see you too, Martin.” Martin rolled his eyes, but a fond smile spread over his face as he leaned into Tim’s embrace.

“Hi, Tim. How was running from the royal authorities yet again?”

Tim grinned. “Exhilarating as always, my friend. I recommend you try it sometime.”

Martin laughed. “I think I’ll leave the heroics to you, Robin Hood.” He peered over Tim’s shoulder, to where Georgie and Jon were sitting with Sasha. “Make a friend?” He gave his friend a knowing look, eyebrows raised.

Tim smacked Martin’s arm. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Marto.” Martin squeaked indignantly in protest, but Tim barrelled on. “Yeah, she was a damsel in distress at the top of a tower, and I saved her. After she hit me with a frying pan, of course.

Both Melanie and Martin burst out laughing, but when Tim didn’t join in they stopped and stared at him. “Wait, are you serious?” Melanie demanded. Tim nodded. “What the fuck,” she muttered. “Leave it to the infamous Timothy Stoker to get lost running from the guards, then somehow manage to find a _girl_ along the way and drag her into this mess. What’s she even doing here? If you wanted to rescue her so badly couldn’t you have at least taken her somewhere where you’re not being pursued?”

Tim held up his hands. “Hey, that’s not on me. She demanded I take her to the Festival of Lights tonight, then take her back.”

Martin and Melanie were still staring at him. “And you _agreed_?” Martin demanded, his voice rising an octave.

Tim waved his hand at his friends. “Seriously, guys? I’ve done things way more dangerous than this. It’ll be fine, I swear.”

Melanie scoffed. “Should have known all it took to get you to do anything was a pretty face. Is mine not enough for you?”

“Melanie, you’re literally a lesbian.”

“So’s she, for all you know.”

Tim sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He loved Melanie, but she really knew how to get on every last one of his nerves. “Mel, I only agreed because she took the satchel and I had to make the trade to get it back.”

“You could have easily taken it back, Tim.”

“How, by force? You do realize how creepy that sounds, right?”

“Well, now that you point it out I do!”

“That was kind of the point, Mel,”

“Guys,” Martin chided. “Seriously? Every time?”

Tim and Melanie sighed, Tim leaning back on his elbows on the bar. “It’s just one night, I take her to see the Lights tomorrow and then take her home. Then I’m off the hook, and you, me, and Georgie go about finishing our business, sound good?”

Melanie studied him for a moment before nodding. “Fine. Just don’t die or get arrested. Believe it or not I actually like having your annoying ass around.”

Tim grinned at her. “I knew you did, Mel.”

They both turned at the sound of a tankard clanging against the bar – Martin had dropped the mug he was cleaning as he stared at the back booth. “Jon,” he whispered before pushing past Melanie and Tim to make his way over to the booth his husband sat at. The two stared in bewilderment as they watched, noticing that Jon had his head in his hands and Georgie’s hand on his shoulder. Sasha looked horrified, staring directly at the man in front of her with terror and guilt clearly etched onto her face.

Exchanging a glance with Melanie, the two thieves hurried their way over, ignoring the shouts behind them of patrons demanding refills. They watched as Georgie stood, allowing Martin to slide into the booth next to Jon, placing a soothing hand on his back. Jon looked up at him, giving Martin a strained smile.

Once he approached, Tim placed a hand on Sasha’s shoulder. Her head snapped up to stare at him, blinking a few times as if to orient herself. “Are you okay?” he asked.

She nodded quickly – _too quickly_ – and pushed her hair behind her ears. “I’m fine. I’m not the one to worry about.” She turned to Jon, who seemed to be getting more colour to his complexion – Tim was sure he hadn’t been that pale when they arrived.

Jon looked up at Sasha. “You don’t need to worry about me, I’ll be just fine.” He reached across the table, and Sasha placed her hand in his scarred one. “And so will you.”

Sasha nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Sims.”

Jon offered her a genuine smile, an expression he didn’t see often on Jon’s face. Tim had always thought Jon looked particularly handsome when he smiled. “Call me Jon.”

Sasha attempted to smile back, though it came out as more of a grimace. Tim wondered what could have happened between the two of them that had her so on edge, but he didn’t press. If she didn’t tell him, he could always weasel it out of Georgie later.

Suddenly, Sasha’s head shot up. “Guards are coming.”

Turning quickly, Melanie grabbed Georgie’s arm and dragged her behind the bar. Georgie proceeded to grab Tim, and Tim grabbed Sasha as the four of them ran for cover. Sasha grabbed her hair, struggling to get all of it into her arms, the locks seeming to never end. Finally, Martin grabbed the end of it with one hand and Jon’s hand in the other, and the six of them slipped behind the cover of the bar.

Sure enough, horses hooves could be heard directly outside the tavern. Georgie let go of Melanie and Tim to deftly lift the rug that covered the trapdoor.

It had been Martin who had discovered the secret way out of the Magnus Tavern several years before. Once he’d started working there part time, he quickly informed his thieving friends, just in case of an event like this, though thankfully they’d never had to use it.

Until today.

The trapdoor swung open just as the front door of the Magnus Tavern burst open. No one dared to look up, simply slipped into the space under the building one by one. First went Melanie, who helped Jon down. Then went Martin, then Sasha, throwing her hair down before clambering in herself. Tim followed, then Georgie came down, closing the hatch behind her.

Before them lay a tunnel lined with stone, seemingly hewn from the rock decades before. Tim had no idea what had stood above it before the tavern, what could warrant a secret passage like this being created.

“Why are we down here as well?” Jon was asking in a hushed voice. “We’re not the wanted criminals.”

“I’m sorry! I panicked,” Martin explained apologetically. Jon sighed, though there was a note of fondness hidden in all that exasperation.

Tim smiled watching them, though he felt a pang in his own chest. He pushed it down, though. There were more pressing matters to attend to.

“Well, gang,” he stage whispered, throwing his arms around Sasha’s and Georgie’s shoulders. “Looks like we’ve got walking to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to upload this sooner but I'm ~forgetful~ so here you go!  
> School starts tomorrow so time to scream for the next four months  
> Here's hoping I can get this thing finished even with school going on  
> Thank you everyone for reading! :)


	5. Come With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group flees the authorities. A strange man offers his help.

Gerard Keay had always assumed that he’d seen everything.

He’d had his fair share of kingdom mages, of pointless wars and rulers who held onto power with an iron fist even when it began to consume them whole. He’d seen dynasties rise and fall, entire cultures entirely wiped out and new ones born.

He’d always assumed he was eternal.

He never expected to be amused by something quite as simple as what he saw down in the tunnels under that old tavern in the Kingdom of Antolia. A ragtag group of bandits and fugitives making their way through damp, long-unused tunnels fleeing from the kingdom by heading directly into its heart.

A flash of something bright flickered in his peripheral vision. Gerard sighed, pushing himself into a standing position. His long black trench coat swept his ankles as he gathered the things he needed before stepping into the ornate mirror on his wall, disappearing without a trace.

“How long is this tunnel?”

Martin turned back to give Sasha an apologetic look. “Sorry, I’m not really sure. I’ve never gone all the way to the end – never needed to until now.”

Sasha nodded and offered the man what she hoped was a reassuring smile. Their footsteps echoed through the damp tunnels as Melanie walked ahead, lighting the long-abandoned torches to light their path using a pack of matches she’d pulled from her jacket.

“Does she always carry those?” Sasha asked Georgie.

Georgie offered her a comforting smile. “Yeah, you never know when you’ll end up in an abandoned tunnel needing a light to guide you,” she teased. Sasha smiled in return. “So, how exactly _did_ you encounter our Tim?” Georgie asked.

Sasha paused for a moment, looking to where Tim was walking ahead of the group, seemingly bickering with Melanie. His dark hair curled at the nape of his neck, his tunic stretching over his wiry muscles as he held his hands to the back of his head, walking as though he was taking a casual stroll through a field and not through an abandoned tunnel fleeing the authorities.

“Sasha?”

Her head snapped up at the sound of her name, and Georgie’s smirk told her that she’d taken too long to answer her question. “Well, uh,” Sasha stuttered, and Georgie was clearly trying and failing to suppress a grin. Sasha cleared her throat. “Well, I was just sitting at home, and suddenly I heard this loud _thump_ sound, and I go and there’s a man under the window! In my panic I may have hit him with my frying pan,” she confessed sheepishly.

Georgie gaped at her. “He _broke_ into your _house_?”

Martin whirled around at that, causing Jon to grunt and also turn. “I’m sorry, what?”

Sasha waved her hands frantically. “No, it wasn’t like that! I lived in a tower, you see, and he just climbed in.”

“That’s technically still breaking and entering,” Georgie pointed out. Martin was gaping at her while Jon’s lips were turned up in amusement.

Tim turned at the commotion sticking his tongue out at the group. “I was in dire straights I’ll have you know,” he retorted. “And she hit me with a frying pan!”

“There was a random man in my living room! What was I supposed to do?”

“Ask who he is?”

“I didn’t think that far ahead!”

“You’re an academic!”

“And you’re all of the second person I’ve ever met!”

Tim shut his mouth at that, and the others all stared at her as though she’d grown an extra head. Even Melanie was periodically taking peeks behind her as she lit the torches. “Seriously?”

Sasha shifted uncomfortably under the sudden attention. “Elias always told me that other people were dangerous, and that they’d use me for my powers no matter what.” She looked at Jon. “Did he tell you the same thing?”

Jon seemed deep in thought, but he shook his head at her question. “Not necessarily. He used to tell me that I was the dangerous one, that if I returned to the people I knew I’d bring carnage and death to them all, that I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from hurting them. To him, I was the weapon to be wielded against the rest of humanity.”

Tim scoffed. “So you were the hunter while Sasha is the hunted. Sounds like some sexist bullshit to me.”

Jon snorted. “Most likely.” He crinkled his eyebrows. “How… if you don’t mind my asking, how did you end up in a tower?”

Sasha narrowed her eyes. “You weren’t? In the tower, I mean.”

Jon shook his head. “I worked in the panopticon, it’s true, but I was able to leave. I lived in a small cottage on the outskirts of the kingdom.”

Sasha’s mind turned over the new information. So despite Jon being Elias’ previous archivist, he hadn’t been physically stuck in the panopticon. “I see,” she murmured, holding onto her hair as the group continued to walk.

She felt a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and turned to see Georgie smiling at her. “Don’t worry about it for now,” she said softly. “You’ll be alright.”

Sasha nodded. Tim seemed to be contemplating this information, but when Sasha met his gaze he simply winked and turned back towards Melanie.

Everything was becoming so much more complex so quickly. She hoped beyond hope that she’d get some semblance of normalcy back soon.

“I think we’re getting to the end.”

Tim turned back at Martin’s words. “I thought you hadn’t been down here before?”

Martin gave him an unimpressed look. “There’s a light coming from over there.”

Tim scrunched his nose at his friend before leaning back to get a better look at Sasha. She was still tucked under Georgie’s arm, the two women having a hushed conversation as they shared the weight of Sasha’s hair between the two of them. He turned back and saw the light Martin was talking about – a long sliver that snaked across the floor like a flowing gold snake.

As they neared, Melanie suddenly skidded to a halt in front of him, nearly causing Tim to crash into her. Before he could shout at her, though, she held up a hand to shush everyone.

Looking ahead, Tim spotted what had made Melanie stop in her tracks. There was a narrow split in the rock that was clearly placed there with the express purpose of being moved. And in front of those rocks stood a man.

There was something very wrong about this man, that much Tim could tell from a first glance. He had the general form of a human being, but something about him just seemed _wrong_.

The group slowed to a stop, and the figure ahead's voice split into a grin. His hair was long and blonde, an almost inhuman shade to the point it was more yellow, and his smile seemed to literally glow white. “No need to be afraid,” a sing-song voice called out to them. “Come now, don’t hide.”

Shivers ran up Tim’s spine, and every instinct screamed at him to turn tail and run away from whoever – whatever – this was.

“Who are you?” Sasha’s voice called from behind him. “Why should we trust you?”

The man grinned even wider, and the whole group seemed to collectively holding its breath. “Who? That’s an interesting question, isn’t it, dear Archivist?” Tim heard Sasha gasp behind him, and his heart thundered in his chest – this man said _archivist_ like it was a title of some kind. “Saying I am a _who_ would require some semblance of identity which I do not possess.”

Melanie narrowed her eyes. “Let us pass,” she demanded.

The man somehow grinned wider. “I could do that,” he conceded. “In fact, why don’t I? Come along, I’ll get you away from those pesky guards.”

_How did he know about the guards?_ Tim wondered. “How do we know you’re not tricking us?” he asked instead.

“I suppose you’ll have to find out. Or try your luck with what’s on the other side.”

“Guys,” Georgie’s wary voice echoed from behind. “We’re being followed. They must have found the trapdoor.”

_Shit_. “What’s your name, even?” Tim shouted.

“Michael,” the not-man replied.

The sound of footsteps was getting louder. “Guys,” Martin’s voice wavered. “Any minute now.”

“Fuck it,” Tim snarled, marching forward until he was face to face with Michael. Up close, the man was even more disturbing – colours seemed to dance in Tim’s vision every time he tried to focus on any part of the man, and his clothes were covered in so many spirals and colours that it nearly made him sick. “Get us out of here. And don’t you dare hurt us.”

Michael giggled. “Of course, Timothy. Right this way.”

Behind Michael, a shimmering yellow doorway seemed to simply appear out of thin air. _A mage,_ Tim realized as the door opened into a blackness so oppressive it seemed to eat all existence. “Go on,” Michael urged. “You’ll find yourselves on the other side.”

Straightening his shoulders, he marched forward. “Tim, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Melanie warned.

He turned to face her. Everyone wore a similar expression of panic on their faces. “When was I ever known for my good ideas?” Melanie scowled at him. “Mel, it’s either this or be arrested. Take your pick, but I am never stepping foot in the castle dungeon.”

Melanie seemed to be debating his words, turning them over in her head before pursing her lips. “Fine. But if this goes wrong you owe me a drink.”

Tim shot her a grin. “Deal.”

Georgie walked forward, Sasha following close behind. She reached out and entwined Melanie’s fingers with hers. “Everyone pair off, and do not separate no matter what,” she ordered. Tim couldn’t stop a fond smile from spreading over his face – that was his Georgie, reliable Georgie, his friend who always took charge when things got sticky.

Jon already had his arm looped through Martin’s, both men wearing similar expressions of cautious resolve.

Tim turned to Sasha, who had deposited her hair on the floor and was looking at him expectantly. He smirked wryly, holding out his elbow. “M’lady.”

Sasha snorted, some of the tension leaving her face. “What a gentleman you are,” she said dryly. She looked afraid, and wary, but she was also resolute in her posture, and trusting. She was trusting him, and Georgie and Melanie and Martin and Jon.

This was her first time in the outside world, and it happened to be a day where circumstances left even Tim at a loss for words. _What an adventure_ , he thought sarcastically to himself.

Holding tight to each other’s hands, Georgie and Melanie both gave him a nod before stepping through the doorway. The sound of footsteps drew ever closer as they vanished, as though consumed whole by the inky blackness.

Martin swallowed visibly, gripping Jon’s hand with his where it rested on his arm. He exchanged hushed words with his husband before they, too, stepped through.

“Ready, princess?” Tim asked Sasha as they were the last ones left with Michael. She rolled her eyes, but simply nodded, walking toward the door. It seemed to pull at them, and as they stepped through Tim’s vision went completely black – all he could hear was Michael’s faint laughter as the world collapsed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so school's been kicking my ass :)) But I'm gonna keep trying to write this fic and get it done if it kills me  
> Sorry if uploads are inconsistent as hell, I no longer know what day it is.


	6. Spiraling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasha soldiers on through her first day outside. Tim fights with his feelings. Jon and Martin encounter an old friend.

The darkness engulfed Sasha wholly, causing her to gasp. She felt her throat close, and panic exploded in her chest as a tightness seemed to settle itself around her ribcage. She scrabbled at her throat with her free hand as she fought to take in a breath. Her lungs couldn’t seem to draw in any air, leaving her gasping and gagging on nothing.

_Is this what death feels like?_ she wondered as her vision began to blur at the edges, panic seizing her. _Since when could I see?_

Colours danced in her vision as she struggled to take in air. She faintly heard someone calling her name, but louder still was the sound of her own choking and suffocating, her chest heaving as she began to slip out of consciousness.

“Breathe, Sasha, just breath. Slowly, stay with me Sasha,” the voice next to her murmured. “Come on, it’s okay.” A deep, melodic voice rumbled next to her ear. “Just listen to my voice, come on, just one breath at a time.”

Slowly, ever so painfully slowly, Sasha forced her panic to subside, focusing on the voice to draw her back to the present. Fire burned in her chest as she gasped, her back arching on the cold floor, and _when did she get on the floor?_ Finally, she managed to wheeze a shallow breath, then another, then another. The voice kept talking, and she finally recognized it as Tim’s as he urged her to just breathe, take it slow, that’s it, come on Sasha, you can’t die here.

Finally, she could breathe normally. Sasha cracked her eyes open to see Tim standing over her, his dark hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. When she met his eyes, he sat back with a relieved sigh. “Jesus Christ, Sasha,” he exclaimed. “Don’t scare me like that!”

Sasha blinked in confusion. “What?”

“You just started choking out of nowhere! I thought you were going to drop dead!”

“You… didn’t?”

Tim stared at her. “…No. I’m fine.”

“Why are you so sweaty?”

“Seriously? It’s so horrendously warm in here I feel like I could melt at any second. Do you not feel it?”

Sasha shook her head slowly, standing. Tim held out a hand to her, entwining their fingers together once she was upright. “No, it’s pretty mild in here. Wherever here is.”

All around were tunnels branching out every which way, strips of neon lighting adorning the cold, hard floor. Sasha blinked, and she could have sworn that the tunnels warped and twisted and changed before her very eyes.

“I’m sure Michael is a mage,” Tim mused next to her as he began to walk.

“Do you know where you’re going?’ Sasha asked.

Tim shook his head. “I somehow doubt it matters,” he said wryly.

Sighing, Sasha simply walked with him, their hands still clasped together. Despite the peril they were in, she couldn’t help but notice the weight of his hand in hers, of the feeling of his calloused palms scraping against her own. His hand entirely engulfed hers, and the pressure was foreign but nice. Holding hands with someone was nice, even if it did make her heart flutter in ways it definitely shouldn’t over something as simple as _holding hands, get it together, Sasha._

"Can I ask you something?”

Sasha looked up at Tim, whose eyes were trained ahead, staring down the never-ending tunnel, not meeting her eyes. “Sure.”

“Why exactly _were_ you in that tower?” he asked. “I mean, how did you get up there? And why did you never try to leave until now?”

Sasha paused for a moment, considering his question. Why _hadn't_ she tried to leave? “Because of Elias,” she replied simply with a shrug. “He told me I couldn’t leave and I believed him.”

“He manipulated you into staying.”

“Yes, I suppose he did.”

They were silent for a while, while Sasha tried to keep her eyes on the floor and turned the new information over in her head. Elias had been manipulating her into staying, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care about her. She’d been up there for her own protection, she knew that.

She was shaken from her thoughts by Tim squeezing her hand. Looking up at him, she saw him softly smiling at her. “Hey, it’s going to be okay.”

And he sounded so genuine, so kind and so caring. This was a man she’d only just met, and he was being kind to her, which was so wildly different to the behaviour she’d been told to expect from other human beings. His smile fully transformed his face – Tim was always grinning or smirking, but _this_ , this soft smile, his lips turned slightly upwards and making his eyes crinkle at the edges, making him look so youthful despite his scars and the five-o’clock shadow which was starting to form on his face. His hand was so warm as it engulfed hers, and Sasha felt a warmth spreading through her chest and up to her face, and she was thankful that her blush wouldn’t be visible.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “I’m sure you didn't sign up for this when you agreed to take me to the Festival.”

“Hey, no getting remorseful now,” he teased. “You're the one who negotiated this.”

“Yeah that’s fair,” she conceded. “Still, it’s kind of a lot.”

Tim nodded. “Are you okay? What with it being your first day in the real world and all.”

Sasha laughed, and it echoed across the tunnels as the walls seemed to laugh in response, eliciting a disgusted look from Tim. “Surprisingly yes. I don’t think the reality of all of this has quite sunken in yet.”

He nodded. “Well, if I can help you in any way, I’m at your service, Princess.” He stopped for long enough to give her a dramatic bow, not letting go of her hand.

Sasha giggled. “Princess?”

Tim grinned at her. “Well, what nickname did you expect when you looked so dazzling in my crown?”

Sasha flushed and punched him in the shoulder. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a hopeless flirt?”

“Oh, many people, don’t you worry.”

“Good,” Sasha said dryly, and Tim simply grinned in response.

Despite all the stress and terror and surprises that had snuck up on Sasha that day, she was very glad she’d left the panopticon.

Tim was beginning to wonder whether there was an end to the mage’s tunnels.

He had no idea how long he’d been walking, holding onto Sasha’s hand until his feet began to seriously hurt, and eventually she slowed to a stop.

“Tim, it seems like we’ve been walking for days.”

Tim sighed, nodding in agreement. “I know. I don’t know where we’re even going,” he grumbled. “Let’s take a break.”

Sasha nodded, nearly collapsing against the wall of the tunnel, rubbing her head with her free hand, raising the hand which was intertwined with Tim’s own. When he didn’t let go, she shot him a quizzical look.

“Hey, I’m not risking you falling into some neon spiral portal if I let you go.”

She nodded slowly, wincing. “Jesus, this is a lot of mass to carry around,” she muttered, gesturing to her hair, continuing to massage her head.

“Here, let me.”

Keeping a hand on Sasha at all times, Tim shifted his weight so he was sitting behind her, slipping his fingers into her dense black curls. They parted around his hands, and he began to slowly massage the tension out of her head. Tim tried desperately not to think about how soft her hair was as it tumbled around his calloused hands, surprisingly free of tangles despite the typical chaos that came with ringlets. He could feel Sasha relax in front of him as the pain in her head subsided, and they sat in amicable silence, Tim praying that Sasha couldn’t hear his heart thundering in his chest.

“Hey, Tim?”

“Yes, Sasha?”

She let out a small laugh. “Why were you running from the guards?”

“Well, I am a thief.”

"You know what I mean. I don't think they'd send royal guards for any old petty thief.”

Tim paused, keeping his hands on Sasha’s scalp. He felt a sort of tingling inside his mind, and he shook his head. “I stole something that supposedly belonged to them, but was much more useful in the hands of the people,” he said simply.

“The crown." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah, the crown.”

Sasha said nothing before nodding. “I see. Tim?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know. I just like saying your name.”

Tim’s breath hitched in his chest as he removed his hands from Sasha’s hair, taking her hand once again. Looking at her face, her eyes were drooping and she was giving him a loopy smile. He hadn’t realized just how exhausted she was – dragging all this hair must have taken more of a toll on her than she realized.

Twisting and contorting himself, he managed to remove his jacket while always keeping one hand on Sasha. Draping it over her shoulders, he shifted so she was curled up in his arms, with her forehead pressed to his chest. “Get some rest, Sasha,” he whispered, though it was clear she was already out cold.

One arm around her, her face so close to his, Tim closed his eyes and tried to force himself to sleep, desperately urging his thoughts to stop swirling. _It’s been a couple hours, Tim, get it together,_ he scolded himself. So what if she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, with her dark skin and bright green eyes, a dimple in one cheek and beautiful curly hair. So what if she made his heart beat faster and warmth spread through every inch of his body, if she made him smile a genuine smile that he couldn't suppress if he tried. So what if her rebuttals and banter made him laugh and she seemed to genuinely appreciate his jokes and flirting as well as his genuine concern.

He opened his eyes and allowed himself to look at her. Her eyelashes brushed her cheek as she slept, peace settled over her features, and Tim sighed.

_Oh Danny, I’m really in it now._

Martin was surprised by how quickly he and Jon escaped the tunnels.

“Do you know who that was?” he asked Jon as soon as he was able to see again, adjusting his husband’s grip on his arm so it was secure.

Jon offered him a grateful smile in response. “Thank you. And no, I’m afraid I don’t, however this is clearly Spiral magic.”

Martin groaned. “Oh good. So we might be here for days and emerge and we’ve gone back in time or something.”

Jon chuckled darkly. "Yes, that is certainly a possibility.”

They walked in silence for a time, Jon keeping a firm grip on Martin’s arm. "I hope the others are alright.”

“Georgie and Melanie can take care of themselves quite well.”

“I know. I actually wasn’t thinking of them.”

“Ah.” Jon pursed his lips. “I’m sure Tim is okay.”

Martin nodded. “Yeah, yeah I know. I just – have you noticed he’s been more reckless lately? Throwing himself into danger more readily, stealing that crown, and now taking that girl to the Festival of Lights…”

“I’m sure he’ll be able to evade authorities.”

“That’s not the point! He’s a wanted man and he willingly decided to take someone he’d just met right into the heart of the kingdom which wants to see him hang!”

Jon contemplated this. “I suppose you’re right. Though, as much as I care for Tim I can’t help but feel more worried for the girl. Sasha.”

“Why?”

“She is Elias’ new Archivist.”

Martin felt the air rush out of his lungs. “What?” he breathed.

Jon pursed his lips. “I was a fool to think he would stop attempting the ritual after I was… gone. Now he’s roped this poor woman into his plot, and she has no idea.”

Martin felt red hot rage bubble up in his gut. “I should have killed him when I had the chance,” he seethed.

Jon gave him a tight smile, squeezing his bicep. “It’s not your fault, love.”

Martin gave his hand what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze. “It’s not yours, either.”

“I was selfish, I survived and got my own freedom and believed that was the end of it.”

“Jon,” Martin chided. “I love you but you really need to stop acting like Elias being evil is your fault. You did what you had to do – no one else is your responsibility. Having said that,” he continued. “We’ll do our best to help Sasha however we can. Sound good?”

Jon gave him a tired smile, sighing and pressing closer to Martin’s side. “Sounds good.”

The tunnel ended, and Martin shielded his eyes at the bright light shining from ahead. “Get ready,” he warned his husband. “We’re at the end.”

Jon chuckled. “So soon? I would have thought a spiral mage would like to torment us more.”

Martin sighed. “Let’s just take what we’re offered, yeah?”

The two of them set forward, Martin squeezing his eyes shut as the light engulfed them, static noises whirring as a pressure set itself around Martin’s head, making it feel as if it would explode. Finally, he felt his feet touch solid ground and he slowly opened his eyes.

Standing before him was a man dressed in fine black clothing, his long black hair smooth and sleek where it rested over his chest. Inked across his throat and every visible part of his body were outlined patterns of black eyes, and around his throat sat a medallion. The man grinned when he saw them.

“Hello, Jon. Hello, Martin,” he drawled. “What trouble have you two gotten yourselves into now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ending with my favourite boy gerry >:)  
> i apologize for the slow updates, school and health issues have not lead to a consistent writing or updating schedule. i've been writing a bunch of one shot fics on my account if you wanna read more from me while i get through this fic!

**Author's Note:**

> So after the Beauty and the Beast JonMartin AU, I had the inspiration to write a TimSasha fic, and now that I have a few weeks off of school I actually have time to write it :)
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy this serotonin dump


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